


Only You

by Cliophilyra



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Based on Movie, Destiny, Fluff, M/M, Mistaken Identity, Slow Burn, Soulmates, Venice, romcom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-05-26 08:41:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6231907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cliophilyra/pseuds/Cliophilyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Very loosely based on the 1994 movie of the same name.</p><p>Sam Winchester used to believe in destiny but it's been years since a Ouija bird and a fortune teller gave him the name of his soulmate and he's almost given up on the idea of ever finding him.</p><p>Until a voice-mail on his ex-girlfriends machine, sends him and his two closest friends on a impromptu trip to Venice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to be posting this as I go - hopefully at least once a week. The rating will probably change later.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Edit: Just realised that I am terrible and forgot to give huge thanks to my lovely beta flutterby_capcake_26 - thank you my dear! Xx

PROLOGUE 

Halloween 1998, Lawrence, Kansas.

Sam Winchester glances nervously at the box that sits in front of him on the floor of his bedroom.  
It’s a bit of an antique, the colors on the dog-eared cardboard box are faded but they show a dark haired mysterious woman with an elaborate Egyptian headdress who stares straight at him. She is surrounded by whirling white apparitions and her kohl lined green eyes are glowing. 

The staring eyes make Sam feel slightly uneasy.

The game is something that his older brother Dean dug out of their Uncle Bobby’s garage and decided was perfect for scaring the shit out of his little brother on Halloween.

The lights are out and the shades drawn so the only illumination comes from the glow-in-the-dark stars and planets that cover Sam’s bedroom ceiling and the single thick white candle that Dean also dug out of the garage. The candle, suitably dribbley and portentous looking, now stands on Sam’s bedside table in a chipped saucer, attempting to provide some Halloween atmospherics.

Sam’s aforementioned brother is unpacking the game from its box and setting it up on the threadbare rug that covers the smooth wooden floor between them.

It is a Ouija board; a semi-circular board with letters and numbers laid out in two arcs and two spaces reading YES and NO at the bottom. There is also a Planchette - a teardrop shaped wooden pointer which will indicate the letter or number to be read off the board. 

Dean grins at him as he holds up a card with the instructions. “Ready then Sammy?” he asks as he waves the card in Sam’s face. Sam smiles tightly, not wanting to betray the nervousness that he feels.

“Let’s see if we can summon some spooks then shall we?” Dean drops the card on the floor at his side and holds out his hands towards his brother. 

Sam raises an eyebrow at him, trying hard to seem unimpressed but feeling his heart rate picking up and his palms begin to feel a little clammy. “Whatever Dean, get on with it.”

Dean looks pointedly at the hands he’s holding out to Sam, “Come on then dumbass, you have to hold my hands and repeat what I say.”

Sam frowns, “Do I have to?” He grips the tips of Dean’s fingers with his, minimizing their contact.

“Screw you dude,” Dean replies, “it’s not exactly a picnic for me either but I am willing to make this supreme sacrifice for the massive comedy value of seeing you piss your pants in fear.” He smiles slyly and grabs Sam’s hands tighter. 

“Dick.”

“Spirits who dwell beyond this world,” Dean intones in a deep, sing song voice, reading from the card on the floor at his side with one eye open, “We call upon you to make yourselves known to us.” 

Dean pauses and shakes Sam’s hand slightly to indicate that it is his turn. Sam sighs and repeats his brother’s words, in a voice that definitely doesn’t waver or come anywhere close to breaking. Sam is very much not keen on the idea of any spirits agreeing to communicate with him. He tells himself that this is all nonsense anyway as Dean continues his ‘Incantation’.

“Draw closer to us spirits, we wish to speak with you, we conjure you to join us in this place and to answer our questions.” Once again he pauses and Sam grudgingly repeats his words feeling like an idiot. 

Then Dean releases his brother’s hands and Sam opens his eyes to find his brother grinning at him, green eyes sparking in the candle light. Dean places the tips of two fingers on his side of the planchette and Sam copies him. “Is there anybody there?” Dean intones.

For a few long seconds nothing happens, there is silence except the quiet sound of breathing and the rush of blood in Sam’s ears as his heart beats wildly. Suddenly the candle on the table next to Dean begins to gutter ever so slightly and Sam feels himself begin to break into a cold sweat. He takes a deep breath, trying not to let his brother see. Just as Dean looks up at him and is about to open his mouth, no doubt with some smart ass remark, the planchette begins to move. Sam’s breath catches in his throat and Dean’s eyes snap down to where their fingers just barely touch the wooden disc.

“Are you doing that?” Dean asks in a whisper.

“No!” Sam exclaims, trying to hide his fear. He knows he isn’t moving it but he has no way to tell if Dean is, “Quit faking it douchebag.” he hisses at his older brother. 

Dean looks at him as the planchette continues to move in lazy circles around the board, his eyes are wide open and his eyebrows are raised, he looks amazed. 

“I’m not faking it dude!”

As he finishes speaking the disc suddenly shoots up to the YES on the board. The brothers stare at it and then back at each other. 

“Okaaay,” says Dean after what seems like whole minutes. “Guess that answers question one.” Sam just smiles weakly and wills himself not to have a heart attack. “So what’d you want to ask the spirits little bro?” Dean asks with a wink.

“I don’t know, this was your idea dumbass.” Sam replies.

“I know what you want to know,” Dean laughs, Sam frowns. “Spirits, tell us the name of Sammy’s soulmate.” Dean says in the sing song voice again and Sam looks up sharply. How did his dick brother know about that? 

Sam had found an old book that had belonged to their uncle Bobby’s late wife, it seemed to be a book on old magic and it talked at length about soulmates and how each person had one and how that person was your one, perfect, other half who would make you complete and how you would know when you met them that they were the one and you would be happy with them forever.  
Sam had thought it sounded nice, like something he would like to believe in. He hadn’t however, told anyone about this, so how did Dean know?

As he looks at his brothers smirk the truth dawns. “Did you read my journal you dick?” Sam practically yells, because ghosts or no ghosts there are some things more pressing than being scared.

Dean just shrugs and smirks, “Maybe, by accident. Seriously though dude, you have a journal. Could you be any more of a girl?”

“You total douchenozzle!” Sam yells. He is about to get up and launch himself at Dean when the candle by his brother’s head gutters again. The flame streams out to one side for a moment although Sam can’t feel any breeze, then settles upright again as if nothing had happened. The various insults he was planning to start throwing at his brother die on Sam’s tongue as the planchette begins to shift restlessly. 

Both brothers look down. Somehow, they still have their fingers on the disc and slowly it moves towards the letters and begins to spell out a name. Dean reads the letters as it goes.

“D.A.M.O.N.B.R.A.D.L.E.Y.” He looks confused for a moment and then laughs, “Damon Bradley! Hate to break it to you Sammy but your soulmate’s a dude.”

Sam raises his eyebrows at his brother’s hysterics with a long suffering air. Sam might only be 14 but he’s not completely clueless and he’s already beginning to realize that his having a male soulmate wouldn’t be completely outside of the realms of possibility. Also, although he has so far chosen not to mention it; he hasn’t been fooled by Dean’s award winning impression of a 100% hetero alpha male for a while now.

“Yeah whatever Dean,” He says, throwing caution and any sense of self-preservation to the wind, “Laugh it up but I’ve seen the way you look at Cas. Shall we ask it the name of your soulmate?”

Dean’s face flushes darkly and he pulls his hand back from the planchette abruptly. It feels to Sam like a spell over the room has been broken as his brother gets to his feet and pushes his hands through his short hair. 

“Screw you Sam.” he spits out angrily and Sam just rolls his eyes. 

Dean storms out of the room and leaves Sam alone in the candle light. Sam sighs and puts the board and the planchette back in their faded box and pushes it under his bed then climbs up and lies down with his arms behind his head. He smiles to himself and quietly repeats the name “Damon Bradley.”

He blows out the candle.

 

~~~

 

Two weeks later a travelling fair comes to Lawrence, as it does every Halloween. It’s still one of Sam’s favorite things to go and walk around in the dusk and soak up the atmosphere. Although he doesn’t mind the rides, he much prefers watching the chaos of lights, deafening music and excited shrieking.

His friend Jo prefers to actually go on the rides and join in the shrieking. They have just come off the Waltzers and Sam is feeling slightly sick and unsteady as they stand side by side, sharing a giant bag of cotton candy. Come to think of it the nausea may have more to do with the candy than the ride.

In the distance he spots Dean with some girl he doesn’t recognize and Dean’s best friend Cas.  
Before he can turn away Jo is waving at them because she has a massive crush on Sam’s brother, like almost all the girls he knows; Sam really doesn’t get that.

Cas has spotted Jo waving and points them out to Dean and the three of them walk over to Sam and Jo. Dean has apparently forgiven Sam for the Ouija incident but is busy re-asserting his heterosexuality via the interchangeably pretty blonde girl on his arm.

Cas, with his messy dark hair, high cheekbones, broad shoulders and big blue eyes is, as usual, not too far away from Dean however. The two of them have been basically inseparable for years; they’re always hovering around each other, slightly too up in each other’s space. They both smile wistfully at each other when they think the other one isn’t looking, or sometimes, they just stare at one another like they’ve forgotten anyone else is there at all.

Sam likes Cas. He is kind, thoughtful and smart and sometimes Sam feels sorry for him. The way he feels about Dean is massively obvious to everyone except, apparently, the only one who matters. Sam resists the urge to roll his eyes at the whole stupid oblivious mess of it all.

“Hey Sammy,” Dean says and Sam scowls, he hates being called Sammy in company. Seeing his expression Dean smiles and ruffles Sam’s shaggy light brown hair just to really piss him off.

“Fuck off Dean!” Sam exclaims, reaching up to shove his brother away. 

Dean just laughs and turns to his date. She is pretty, around Dean’s age, petite with long wavy blonde hair and light blue eyes. 

“Babe, this is my little bro Sammy, Sammy this is Amanda.”  
Amanda looks vaguely disapproving of Sam’s colorful language but she smiles as if to show willing for Dean’s sake. Sam just smiles back and thinks, “A week if you’re lucky” he turns to Jo and says, “So, do you wanna go on another ride or something?” 

Jo shrugs, she is slightly preoccupied with admiring Dean. Sam sighs.

“Dude you should totally go to the fortune teller, Amanda’s friend said it was freaky how accurate she was.” Dean enthuses. 

Sam narrows his eyes in suspicion. He’s about to say “Hell no!” and ask since when his brother has believed in fortune tellers, accurate or otherwise, when Jo turns to him with a brilliant smile and exclaims “Hell yes! Let’s do it, come on Sam!” Before he can argue he finds himself being dragged away from his brother and towards a small red and gold striped tent in the corner of the field. 

A elaborately hand painted sign outside proclaims the talents of the optimistically named, ‘Mysterious Madame Ivanna’ in elaborate gothic lettering above a crude portrait of a beautiful dark eyed woman with a gypsy headdress and a piercing stare - not unlike the one on the cover of the Ouija board box. Before Sam has a chance to think twice Jo has pushed him through the beaded curtain, this is the one fairground attraction it seems you don’t have to queue for these days.

Once inside the tent it takes some time for their eyes to adjust to the gloom. Gradually Sam becomes aware of faded Persian rugs covering the bare ground under his feet and small shelves displaying suitably occult junk like stuffed animals, grinning human skulls, flickering candles in twisted silver candlesticks and rough uncut lumps of glittering crystal. 

In the center of the tent is a small card table on which rests a deck of tarot cards and something covered with a black velvet cloth. Behind this table sits a woman who could charitably have been said to have looked a bit like the painting outside - about 40 years ago. She is almost hidden by a swathe of scarves and various bits of fur and velvet and she wears enough silver jewelry to stop a hail of bullets. She gestures to the two of them to sit and they do. “What is the destiny you would like me to reveal to you my dears?” She asks in a deep cracked voice with a heavy but suspiciously non-specific eastern European accent.

Sam and Jo look at each other and shrug, ‘I don’t know,’ Jo says, ‘just general destiny stuff I guess?’

The old woman looks at them with piercing dark eyes from under the fringe of gold sequins that dangle from the edge of her head scarf and dramatically whips the velvet cloth off the table to reveal a large crystal ball on a gilt stand. She closes her eyes and rests her hands lightly over the dark orb. She begins to chant in a strange language and Sam tries to tell himself that he is not nervous. It seems like the room begins to darken and he almost imagines he can see light flickering in the depths of the crystal. Jo looks rapt, her mouth slightly open as the old lady continues to chant and then looks up at her. 

“You will go on a journey,” she says to Jo, “to a place far away and you will learn a great truth.” 

Jo looks thrilled at what seems to Sam to be more than a bit vague. He raises his eyebrows as the fortune teller gazes back into the depths of the crystal. Suddenly she sits bolt upright and looks straight at him with wide eyes pointing her crooked finger. 

“A name!” she croaks. “I see a name, someone of great importance to you. Your destiny.” 

Sam’s heart begins to beat faster despite his attempts at nonchalance and his mouth is dry, he looks into the woman’s glittering eyes and he almost knows what she’ll say before she says it. 

“Damon Bradley.” 

His heart is pounding now and he gasps as he jumps out of his chair, almost tripping over it as he stands. Jo looks in confusion at his pale face and wide eyes. 

“Sam? What’s wrong?” she exclaims. 

Sam can’t answer. What the hell is happening? How does this random, mad old woman know that name? He turns to leave but the psychic grabs his wrist in a vice-like grip, all bony fingers and silver rings. Her clawed nails dig into his skin as he stares wide-eyed. 

“Destiny is $2 each.” She says. 

Sam reaches into his pocket and presses a crumpled $5 bill into her grasping hand and tries to twist out of her grip. She begins to loosen her hand but as he pulls away she yanks him towards her once again and says, in a softer voice, strangely devoid of accent. 

“You make your own destiny, do you understand boy? Don’t wait for it to come to you.”

Sam nods just to get away but he doesn’t really hear her over the blood rushing in his ears. He pushes through the opening of the tent and out of the oppressive incense filled darkness into the cool night with Jo close behind him. He leans against the nearest tree and he drags in lung-full’s of candy apple scented air until he feels slightly more normal.

‘Dude what the fuck!’ Jo exclaims at last.


	2. Chapter 2

Seventeen Years Later.  
Lawrence, Kansas.

 

Sam Winchester sits in his dimly lit kitchen and stares at the laptop on the table before him, totally unable to focus on the case notes he is supposed to be reading.

The evening has drawn in while he’s been failing to do any work and he has only just noticed that he’s now in darkness, apart from the blueish glow of the laptop screen. He takes a sip of cold coffee and sighs at his inability to concentrate. He has been sitting here for two hours now, doing basically sweet FA. He rubs his hands over his eyes and pushes back his hair, which is still slightly longer than is probably appropriate for a lawyer.

His eye keeps being drawn to the leather hold-all by the kitchen door, the last of Amelia’s things waiting to be picked up. Another one bites the dust. Another relationship that had seemed promising has ended and Sam is scarcely surprised anymore. It’s his fault, he accepts that; it usually is. In the last fifteen years he’s had a few serious relationships with both women and men but they have always ended because one way or another he has felt like something was missing. As much as he might love them, part of him is always thinking that there is something else out there. Someone he is supposed to find and when he does it will all make sense – he will know this is the one and he won’t even have to try hard or work at it. It will just be perfect.

He is waiting for Damon Bradley although he’d deny it if you asked him.

There is a knock at the door and he gets up and walks out to the entrance hall, turning on the kitchen light as he goes. He can see the outline of two familiar figures through the door and he smiles as he opens it. Jo and Cas stand on the porch, Jo is waving a bottle of tequila and grinning. 

“Hey! Can we come and join the pity party?” She asks, not waiting for an answer before pushing past him and into the house. He looks after her and rolls his eyes, Cas follows with a helpless shrug at Sam. 

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Sam asks following them into the living room.

“Well you’re miserable ‘cos Amelia’s gone, Cas is miserable ‘cos Dean is being a douche, it’s Friday night, it’s a long weekend and I just wanted to get drunk with some idiots – so here we are.” Jo explains.

“Right ok, I’m kinda’ working though.” Sam protests vaguely.

“Exactly how much ‘work’ have you done in the last hour?” Jo asks, with air quotes.

Sam sighs, “Fuck all.” He answers taking the tequila bottle out of her hand and going off to hunt for shot glasses.

Jo smiles and smacks him on the ass as he passes her, “Atta boy! Cas can’t actually have any of that ‘cos he’s my designated driver.” She says, “He could have a beer though.”

“Yes ma'am.” Sam replies, with a salute. “So in what way is my brother being a douche?” He calls from the kitchen as he riffles through the cupboards, “Or is this just an in-general sort of thing?”

Cas appears behind him, leaning against the doorframe. “It’s just…you know, the usual.” He says in his deep, quiet voice. “Haven’t seen him for a while, I’m pretty much on my own at home at the moment.” Cas looks at the floor, runs his hand through his perpetually messy dark hair. “He’s probably got some new woman. I think it’s time I moved out really. It’s killing me.”

Sam hands him a beer from the fridge, trying to look sympathetic without looking pitying. He finds it hard to know what to say anymore. He pulls the glasses out of the depths of the cupboard and takes them back to the living room with a salt shaker and a slightly elderly lime he found in the salad crisper. Cas follows him, opening his beer by twisting the cap off, the same way Dean does.

Cas and Sam’s brother have been living together since college. Cas has been out, at least to his friends, for nearly ten years but Dean is still firmly in denial. He still stares at Cas when he thinks he’s not looking, they’re still inseparable most of the time and it’s still clear to anyone with half a brain that he is in love with Cas but for some reason, he just won’t let himself admit it. So instead there is an endless string of one night stands and occasional dead-end relationships with women who he never brings back to the apartment. He just disappears for however long, avoiding Cas until it all falls apart and he comes back home. Sam often wants to smack his brother but he’s learnt a long time ago that it does no good. On the one hand he has no idea why Cas hasn’t already given up but, on the other, the idea that one day he might, makes his heart hurt a little. Dean and Cas are a pair and he can’t imagine his life without either of them. 

Sam puts a hand on Cas’s shoulder while Jo pours the Tequila, “Dude, Dean loves you, I’m sure of it; we all are. In the end though, you’ve got to do what’s right for you.”

Cas gives a small nod and a shrug. “Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t. It’s been half of my life nearly Sam. It’s time to give up.”

Sam squeezes Cas’s shoulder, “Could you try and talk to him? I know you’ve tried before. I know you don’t want to push but if this is it – bottom of the ninth. What have you got to lose?”

Cas shrugs but doesn’t answer.

“Right.” Jo sits down on the floor by the coffee table, kneeling awkwardly in her tight jeans as she finishes pouring the shots. She pushes the other glass towards Sam, “Here you go.” 

Sam picks his up with an air of resignation. He has a feeling this is going to get messy.

“So what are we drinking to?” He asks.

Jo gestures expansively with her glass, at risk of losing her liquor all over the carpet, ‘Love!’ she exclaims, ‘We’d probably all be better off without it.’

“Love!” They all chorus before Sam and Jo down the liquor. They make the traditional tequila grimace while stuffing lime pieces in their mouths. Sam shakes his head, “Ugh. What now?”

Jo bounces on her knees, “Drinking game!” She scoots over towards the TV and starts rummaging through Sam’s DVD’s until she holds up The Big Lebowski. “Drink every time someone says Dude, every time The Dude drinks a Caucasian, when Walter mentions Vietnam or if someone gets a strike!” She says with a grin.

“Oh good, I didn’t want to be conscious this weekend anyway.” Sam groans.

Jo laughs and puts the DVD in the player and comes back to the couch, sitting on the floor and leaning against Sam’s legs. Cas sits next to Sam, curling his legs under him and smiling down at Jo as she re-fills their glasses.

~~~

They watch the movie and drink - a lot. At least Sam and Jo do, Sam feels bad that Cas is having to stay sober, but he seems happy enough with his one beer and the company. Sam and Jo are pretty far gone by the time they all join in with “who the fuck are the Kanutssons?!” and dissolve into helpless giggles.

Sam realizes, with a burst of clarity, that he doesn’t really miss Amelia and that makes him feel sort of bad. But he supposes it’s better he figured it out sooner rather than later. He wants someone to watch stupid movies and cuddle and laugh with; Amelia hadn’t really been one for stupid movies, or tequila.

Jo nudges him with a glass, “Come on dude, Vietnam reference,” she says, slurring very slightly. He takes the glass and downs it, the salt and lime are long gone and he’s past caring. Cas is asleep, slumped against the arm of the couch, his fingers curled loosely around his long-empty beer bottle. Jo pauses the movie to go to the bathroom and Sam is left staring into space, watching the room revolve gently.

When the phone rings Sam can’t be bothered to get up so he lets the machine pick up. An unfamiliar male voice begins to speak, _“Amelia. Hi it’s Damon, sorry to call so late but I’m just at the airport. I’ve got a conference in Venice this weekend so I’m just off to Chicago and I just wanted thank you for seeing me today and I will send you those figures as soon as I get back. If you could drop me an email with the info that we discussed that would be great. My address is Damon dot Bradley at macguffinpartners dot com or you can call me at the Hotel Danieli in Venice. Ok thanks. Bye.” ___


	3. Chapter 3

Sam sits staring at the phone. His throat is dry and his heart is thumping. Damon Bradley. Damon fucking Bradley. The name is going round and round in his head, it’s all that’s in his head. He feels like he’s in a trance. He has stood and snatched up the receiver before he’s even aware of having moved. He says a breathless, ‘Hello?’ as if by some magic the man might still be on the line but there is nothing but the flat dial tone. He stands, looking at the phone handset, completely floored.

“Oh my god.” He hears Jo’s voice and turns to where she stands in the doorway staring at him open mouthed. “Oh my god.” She repeats, “Was that…? That was Damon fucking Bradley!”

Sam nods dumbly. The part of his brain that is still operational is surprised that she remembers. They had talked non-stop about Damon Bradley and the psychic when they were kids but they hadn’t mentioned either of them for a long time. Although sometimes he had suspected that Jo knew what was really going on in his head when his various relationships faltered and came to an end. Judging by the look on her face now, she definitely knew.

“He’s at the airport!” Jo exclaims, “Come on! What are you waiting for? Let’s go!”

Sam frowns, “Go where? What do you mean what am I waiting for?” he asks.

“The airport! We know where he is, let’s go find him!” Jo practically yells, grabbing his hand and dragging him toward the door.

“I can’t drive anywhere! I’m wasted and so are you!” Sam protests, holding onto the doorframe.

Jo looks at him; he’s not wrong. She looks crestfallen for a moment but then rallies as she remembers. “Cas!” She rushes over to the couch and shakes Cas by the shoulder until his eyes snap open.

“What?” He asks, his voice rough with sleep.

“We’re going to the airport.”

Cas blinks, “Okaay, have fun,” he drawls, turning over and closing his eyes again.

Jo shakes him again, “You have to drive us; you’re not drunk!”

Cas sighs and sits up, “But I am tired.” he protests, “Why are we going to the airport?”

“Because Sam’s soulmate called and he’s at the airport.”

Cas looks from Jo to Sam in exasperation, “How long was I asleep for? Would anyone care to explain what’s going on?”

“No time!” Jo exclaims, “Just drive, we’ll fill you in on the way.” She thrusts Cas’s car keys into his hand.

Cas rolls his eyes and stands up, “Fine.” He picks up his jacket and follows Sam and Jo out to the car, “I hope you realize that you will owe me for this.”

As Cas pulls away from the driveway Sam looks shell-shocked and slightly sick, Jo is practically vibrating with excitement and Cas still has absolutely no idea what is going on.

~~~

Jo explains about the Ouija board, the fortune teller and Damon Bradley as they drive. Cas does remember that night at the fair, vaguely remembers Sam’s excitement at the time, “So you’re going to go to the airport and do what? Track this man down and tell him he’s your soul mate?” He asks, incredulous.

“Yes!” Jo replies, “He’s going to find him and they’ll fall in love and it’ll be amazing.”

Cas raises his eyebrows, “Ok, but shouldn’t we at least consider the possibility that he may be ancient or a murderer or, I don’t know…straight?”

Jo waves a hand dismissively, “He won’t be. This is Sam’s destiny Cas. Stop trying to shit on destiny.”

“My apologies. I know it’s scarcely of import but what does Sam think about this?” Cas asks sarcastically.

Sam is staring out of the window having tuned out his friend’s bickering. All he can think through the haze of Tequila is that Damon Bradley really exists. He’s not sure if that is good or bad? He has spent a good half of his life using that name, consciously or unconsciously, as an excuse for every relationship that has fallen apart. How can an actual person ever live up to his fantasy? Sam realizes that Cas is speaking to him, “Hmm?” he looks round at Cas’s expectant expression. “He’s real.” Sam says, almost to himself.

“Right, glad to see we’re all on the same page.” Cas says with a sigh. 

~

When they arrive at the airport Cas goes to park and Jo drags Sam through the sliding doors and into the harsh neon light and muffled noise of the departures area. They look around briefly then she’s off again, pulling him across the shiny floor to the display board. 

“Where did he say he was going?” She asks.

“Venice.” Sam replies.

“He’s not going to be flying to Venice from here dumbass.” Jo says.

“Oh right, umm…Chicago!” Sam remembers, “He said he was headed for Chicago.”

They stare at the screens until Jo points excitedly, “Look, there; Chicago O’Hare, 5 minutes!”

Sam follows her finger and there it is on the screen. His heart starts to thump again, he feels ridiculous, he’s pretty certain no one ever got this excited about a flight to Chicago before. “So what do we do?” He asks Jo.

She looks at him and around at the departure area, “It says Gate 11.” she says, “Where’s Gate 11?”

They look around them and then at each other as the truth suddenly dawns, “Um, probably through check in and security?” Sam says.

Shit. They have driven 45 minutes and none of them even considered the fact that without a ticket they wouldn’t even be able to get through security to try and find the guy. They look at each other in despair, “Fuck.” Jo says with feeling.

Sam is crushed, he had no idea what he was planning to do but, now he realizes he can’t do anything he almost wants to cry.

Cas walks over to where they stand despondently looking up at the departures board, “What are we doing?” he asks.

“We can’t do anything.” Jo replies, twisting her hair in frustration, “We don’t have tickets so we can’t get through to the gate.”

“Ah.” As much as Cas had been pretty sure this was a futile, crazy, drunken escapade he finds he is a little disappointed. After all, he’s no stranger to impossibly futile love. The three of them stand in the hall looking lost as the Chicago flight changes to BOARDING on the display. “I’m sorry Sam.” Cas says quietly.

‘Oh well, I guess we tried.’ Sam says after a few moments of silence. “This never happens in the movies.” He laughs, aiming for lightness and missing.

As they trail out to the car, Sam’s disappointment gradually turns to embarrassment. What did he think he was going to do anyway? He asks himself. Tell some random stranger that he was destined to fall in love with him? That he is Sam’s soul mate because he happens to have the name a Ouija board and a mad old woman gave him when he was a kid? The appropriate response to that sort of talk is to move quickly in the opposite direction.

Regardless of the ridiculousness of it all Sam feels tense and frustrated. As if he had been on the verge of some massive precipice about to take a flying leap before being abruptly curtailed, grabbed in mid-air and now he will never know one way or the other whether he would have fallen or flown.


	4. Chapter 4

They drive back to Lawrence in unhappy silence. Jo is in the back focusing intently on her phone. Sam stares listlessly out of the window at the blurred lights of the cars streaming past. 

They are nearly back at Sam’s when, without warning, Jo yells, “Turn off here Cas!” 

Taken by surprise Cas swerves into the turn off. Sam’s head bounces off the window he’s leaning against, “Ow! What the fuck?” he says, rubbing his forehead.

“Why did I do that?” Cas asks evenly as car horns blare behind him.

“Executive decision.” Jo replies, “We’re going to Venice.”

Sam and Cas both turn to stare at Jo. “What do you mean we’re going to Venice?! I can’t go to Venice!” Sam exclaims.

Jo looks back at them both calmly, “Can’t you? Why?” She asks.

Sam opens his mouth, “Because…” He can’t actually think of a concrete reason. “Work?” He finishes lamely.

“It’s Labour Day weekend, we’re all off and anyway there’s this great thing called the Internet these days; you can telecommute if you have to - pretend you’re sick.” Jo replies. “I know I might be nuts but I have a weird feeling that this is important. If we don’t do this you’re going to regret it forever because you’ll never know what could’ve happened. We all need a break and you need to lay this ghost – one way or another. So why not?”

Sam and Cas look at each other while they go over what Jo just said. It can’t be that simple? Except it seems like it kind of might be.

“There’s another flight to Chicago in a few hours, we can get a connection to Venice from there.” Jo says, tapping a nail against the screen of her phone.

“How are we going to find him when we get there?” Sam asks.

Cas looks thoughtful, “We know his name and we know what hotel he is staying at. I don’t think it will be that hard.” he says. There is more silence as they consider this. “Where are we going now?” Cas asks eventually.

“My apartment.” Jo replies, “I need to pack, then to yours and back to Sam’s.” 

~~~

Five minutes later they are at the apartment Jo shares with her roommate Charlie. “Right, I’ll be back.” Jo says before bouncing off up the drive.

Cas and Sam sit in silence, Sam really wants to ask him what he’s going to do about him and Dean but he doesn’t know if Cas will want to talk about it again. Perhaps, he thinks, a bit of weird, spontaneous adventure is just what Cas needs.

Cas is drumming his fingers lightly on the steering wheel. He smiles awkwardly at Sam as he if doesn’t want him to think he is ignoring him but doesn’t really want to talk. Sam smiles back.

“So we’re doing this then?” Cas asks after a moment.

Sam shrugs, “Seems like it, doesn’t it,” he replies, “God knows why, but I do know if it was just me I probably wouldn’t do anything and I’d spend the next fuck knows how long kicking myself. So I figure why not just let you two be my guiding angels?”

Cas raises an eyebrow, “Are you sure that’s wise?”

“Probably not, but I’m easily led.”

With a crash Jo emerges back into the street, front door slamming behind her. She opens the trunk and slings her bag inside before falling back into the car. 

“Fuck!” She exclaims, sounding out of breath, “That was the fastest I have ever packed! I’ve probably forgotten everything I need but screw it – let’s do this!” 

Cas laughs and pulls away with a squeal of tires and they head for his and Dean’s apartment.

~~~

“What about Dean?” Sam asks Cas as they pull up outside.

“I’ll leave him a note,” Cas replies, his jaw tightening. “It’ll be fine. If he needs me he will call my cell.” 

Sam frowns, he doesn’t know what to say so he says nothing as Cas gets out of the car. 

“I won’t be long.” Cas says and disappears inside. 

Jo and Sam look at each other, “Trouble in paradise?” Jo says with a frown.

“Oh god, if that’s your idea of paradise I’d hate to see your hell. It’s the same as it always is when Dean picks up a chick that lasts more than one night. It makes me so angry! They’re in love with each other, they always have been and they probably always will be. Why is my brother so fucking obtuse Jo? He treats Cas like shit, he’s making them both miserable. For what? So he can maintain some macho illusion that literally no one but him gives a shit about?’’ Sam shrugs, “Maybe this’ll be good for Cas? Get him out there. Take his mind off it?”

Jo nods. “So you’re actually going for my ridiculous plan?” She asks.

Sam shrugs and laughs, “Guess so.” He replies.

Jo smiles widely, “Good. What’s the worst that can happen?”

Sam slumps his head against the dash, “Oh Christ, don’t say that!”

“Well it’s true Sam! Literally the worst thing that could happen is that the guy tells you to fuck off. It would suck for a while but then you’d move on. But what if he’s everything you imagine, everything you’ve been dreaming about, and I know that you do dream about him.” She adds with a smirk at his outraged expression, “If you don’t try you’ll spend the next god knows how many years regretting not trying and not knowing how awesome it could have been!”

Cas returns with a small hold-all which he dumps in the trunk before getting back in the driver’s seat. “Right, next stop your house.” He says to Sam.

~

When they arrive Sam jumps out of the car and heads back inside. He stands in the hallway and stares ahead for a moment while he gathers his thoughts. He needs things, passport, clothes, money… things. He heads for his bedroom, opens his closet, pulls a hold-all down from the top shelf and begins stuffing various clothes in to it. He wonders vaguely what the weather will be like in Venice.

He grabs his passport out of the drawer and checks through his wallet for credit cards, shoves them both in his back pocket and wanders through to the bathroom to grab his toothbrush.  
He stands in a lingering haze of alcohol and indecision trying to think if there’s anything he’s forgotten.

Without thinking he grabs a handful of condoms and sachets of lube and stows them in the bag.  
Looking at them he is hit by a moment of ‘What the fuck?’ What is he doing? Is he really traveling half way around the world in the hope of picking up some guy he doesn’t even know?

He walks back into his room in a daze, drops down onto the edge of his bed and rubs his hands over his eyes. He has almost decided to go out and tell Cas that this is ridiculous – they’re not doing this - when he thinks back to that night at the fairground. How he’d felt when he heard that name from the fortune teller; the rush of blood to his head, the racing heart, the breath catching in his throat. He thinks of how he’s never had that feeling again since; except for this evening 15 years later when he heard that same name on his answer machine.

He takes a deep breath and pushes himself to his feet – he is doing this.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit earlier than planned - Thank you so much to everyone who has commented so far! I am really enjoying writing this :-)

Eighteen hours later the three of them are standing outside Marco Polo Airport in Venice looking and feeling like zombies.

It is late afternoon in Venice and they are jet-lagged. This, plus the hangover that kicked in for Sam and Jo somewhere between Chicago and their first stop-over in Munich, explains the zombification.

The flight, or rather flights had taken over 16 hours and the gradual process of sobering up over the Atlantic had inspired a dawning feeling of dread. There had been a couple of moments during the journey when Sam had come fairly close to wanting to jump out of the airplane but, in the end, he realized he was going to Venice with two of his best friends. Even if the whole Damon Bradley thing was a complete disaster there were worse things to do on the spur of the moment.

They blink in the low, golden sunlight as they try to work out where to go next. Eventually, after some arguing they work it out and follow the signs for the apparently never ending walkway to the ferry that will take them over the lagoon to the islands. Having achieved this much they crash out in the corner of the ferry with luggage piled between them, so tired they can barely speak.

As the ferry starts its crossing from the mainland to the islands Sam gazes out of the window.  
The water is brown but it sparkles in the sunlight and churns around the boat chaotically. Other craft, both small and large, dart across the water and Sam watches them curiously as they rush about seemingly paying each other no heed. For a long while there is nothing to see but the wide expanse of the lagoon and the wooden poles which rise out of the water at regular intervals.

Eventually, in the distance they can see some of the islands and it begins to dawn on Sam just how odd this place is. A deep lagoon filled with tiny islands that make up a city criss-crossed by canals and held together with bridges. In the sunshine under the perfectly blue, cloudless sky it is truly beautiful.

They are beginning to pass the islands now, rickety wooden pontoons with all manner of craft moored to them cling to the edges of each one.

After a while Sam realizes that both Jo and Cas look slightly green and are groaning softly, which only enhances their resemblance to Zombies. Ah shit…Seasickness. 

“You guys ok?” he asks. 

Cas and Jo nod weakly, both apparently not keen to open their mouths at the moment. Sam is surprised that he himself feels fine. They have none of them spent much or in fact any time on the ocean, growing up in extremely land locked Kansas meant few opportunities to acquire sea legs.  
Sam tries to smile encouragingly and squeezes Jo’s hand, not sure what else he can do. 

‘We’ll be there soon,’ he says, although he really has no idea. 

Almost an hour later they still haven’t made it to their final destination of San Marco and Jo and Cas are leaning against each other, looking like they’re approaching Death’s door. They both have their eyes closed despite Sam telling them that just makes it worse – according to what he has just Googled.

Eventually the ferry moors at San Marco Basin and they stagger out on to the quayside.  
Cas and Jo both look like they want to kiss the ground but settle for dropping down onto the nearest bench and groaning. 

“Oh God,” Jo protests, “Whose idiotic idea was this?” She breathes deeply, leaning her head against Sam’s side as he strokes her hair. 

Sam grins at them, “You’re gonna have to get used to it, water travel is kind of a thing here.”

Cas sighs, “I hate you.” he says with feeling as he hauls himself to his feet and reaches down to drag Jo up. 

Sam looks around him at the busy waterfront. Hundreds of tourists are congregating in just this one area, milling around taking pictures, eating Gelato, climbing on and off of boats of all sizes, dragging luggage behind them. Many of them are buying souvenir t-shirts, harlequin dolls and slightly tacky, glittery Venetian masks in every imaginable color from rows of stalls with brightly colored, striped awnings.

Cafes, bars and hotels line the front, their pontoon seating areas jutting out into the lagoon filled with more people drinking, eating, smoking, laughing.

As he looks down the promenade, shading his eyes from the glare, Sam notices a grand hotel right on the front, its red ochre façade standing out among the white and cream of all the other buildings. The name above the white marble doorway makes his breath catch; Hotel Danieli. 

He reaches out blindly and grabs Jo’s arm, pointing with his free hand. She follows his gaze and her face lights up as she spots the hotel. 

“Well that was easy!” she says and promptly sets off in the direction of the Danieli.

Sam and Cas shoulder the bags and hurry after her, “What are you doing?” Sam hisses, a note of panic creeping into his voice.

Jo turns to him in exasperation, “Going to find the man of your dreams idiot!” she exclaims, “Is that not what we’re here for?”

“Yes but...we only just got here, I feel like re-heated shit and I’d kind of like to look and feel a bit more human before I jump into this?” Sam complains.

“We’re just going to do some recon Sam. No time like the present.” Jo says with a grin, dragging him through the doors.

~~~

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Sam exclaims as he practically tumbles into the entrance hall. Suddenly he is aware that everything is quieter, he looks around and his eyes widen at the sight of the extremely opulent lobby of the hotel. The equally opulent guests and uniformed staff are all looking at them with badly disguised suspicion. Oh great, Sam thinks, nice start. Jo is seemingly undeterred by the hallowed atmosphere of the hotel and strides over to the reception desk while Sam and Cas stand side by side, smiling awkwardly at everyone and trying not to look like they’re planning to rob the place. 

Every surface that isn’t marble is velvet, damask or polished dark wood. The floors gleam, reflecting the warm light of the ornate Murano glass chandeliers. The ceilings are covered with elaborate gilded moldings and at one side of the lobby a wide, burgundy carpeted staircase rises up to a huge sky light. Each landing is revealed by balconies and archways of warm honey colored stone and marble carved in an elaborate, almost Moorish style. Sam might be reasonably well paid nowadays but his first thought when he looks at this place is that it is not for the likes of him. He turns to Cas and sees the same look in his friend’s eyes. 

Cas raises his eyebrows slightly and gives Sam a small wry smile. They watch Jo talking to the receptionist; they can’t really hear what either of them are saying but Jo is giving the man her widest, most winning smile. 

A few minutes later Jo thanks the man and walks towards Sam and Cas with a victorious grin, “C’mon losers, let’s go. I’ve got it all sorted.” She says as she passes them.

Sam and Cas exchange looks and follow her back out into the sunshine. They walk along the waterfront behind her as she brandishes a piece of paper in triumph, “See, easy!” She says.

“What was easy?” Sam asks, “What’s that?”

Jo turns, moving between the two men and linking her arms into theirs, “This; oh ye of little faith, is the name and address of the restaurant where Mr Damon Bradley has made a dinner reservation tonight.”

Sam raises his eyebrows; he’s impressed but also slightly terrified. “How the hell did you manage that?” He asks. 

Jo grins and tosses her shining blonde hair, “Charm,” she replies, “Not something you’d know about.” 

Sam gives her his best bitch-face, in the absence of a witty retort.

“Hit a bit of a snag at first,” She goes on, pretending not to notice, “Our Mr Bradley has actually checked out, he only stayed one night and they don’t know where he’s gone on to.” Jo explains, “So I thought, fuck it and I told him the whole story. He thought it was romantic so he told me that he had asked the desk to make him a reservation at this place for this evening at 8pm.”

Sam groans, “Why did you have to tell him?” He says, cringing with embarrassment.

“Because I couldn’t think of a believable excuse.” Jo replies, “You can relax though Romeo, I told him it was me who was looking for him. Dunno why though, it’s not like you’re ever gonna see the guy again. What do you care what he thinks?”

Sam smiles at her, she’s got a point he supposes, he doesn’t really know why he cares, “True, well thank god you have no shame.” He says.

“Screw you Winchester, you should be groveling at my feet! If I hadn’t got this we’d be fucked.”

Cas grabs the piece of paper out of Jo’s hand. “Great.” He says, “You’re amazing, I’m excited for us. Can we please go to our hotel now?”

Jo and Sam look at each other and nod; shouldering their bags they set off in search of their hotel.

~~~

After another half hour, during which they take in basically nothing of the scenery as they stare at their phones, following Google Maps through the narrow, winding streets, they find their hotel and check in. The hotel is nothing compared to the lavishness of the Daneli, it’s small and cheap but even so, it’s beautiful. The crumbling façade is painted a pale orange color that seems to glow in the setting sun. A flight of worn stone steps lead down into the canal on one side and on the roof they can see the lights of a garden under a canopy of vines. It feels comfortable and homely.

They check in and go to their rooms. Sam drops his bag on his bed and sits down heavily on the blue and white cotton comforter, he tries to resist lying down, knowing it will be impossible to get up again. He rubs his face, trying to wipe away the exhaustion. We’re here, he thinks. It seems like both five minutes and an age ago that he was listening to that message on his voicemail and now they’re in fucking Venice. It scarcely seems real; although, having been awake for so long, not much does at this point.

The room is simple but clean, with a blue and while tiled floor and a large floor-to-ceiling shuttered window with a balcony. He walks to the window, pushes aside the light cotton drapes and opens the shutters. The canal flows slowly below him and a small green boat is being rowed by a man in a suit. It’s idyllic and peaceful but just underneath the beauty of the scene is a distinct smell of damp and decay, as if everything were gradually moldering into the water. It gives the place an ever so slightly ominous edge, like the masks that seem to be literally everywhere, nothing is quite what it seems here. 

The tightly packed ancient buildings and waterways are so unlike the wide open roads and new buildings of home he can hardly believe people really live here. It is completely breathtaking. Somewhere out there is the man they have come all this way to find. Completely unaware that the message he left for a business acquaintance has led three strangers to follow him halfway around the world. Sam has no idea how they are going to explain any of this if they ever find the guy but something about the cloudless azure sky, the spreading warmth of the sunset and the wavering reflections of water on the ancient walls make him believe all the romantic crap he’s read about this place. Maybe there is something special, something which might make all sorts of ridiculous things possible. He smiles and turns back to his room, shedding his clothes across the floor as he heads for the shower.


	6. Chapter Six

After 20 minutes of standing basically immobile under the spray, Sam emerges in a cloud of steam wrapped in a towel and feeling significantly more human. He pulls some clean clothes out of his bag, gets dressed again and sits on the bed scrubbing at his wet hair with the towel.

There’s a knock at the door and he gets up to find Jo and Cas, both also freshly showered, re-dressed and mostly de-zombified. Jo looks far too energetic as she grins at him. 

“Isn’t this place amazing?” She says, “Have you seen it out there? It’s so beautiful!”

Sam smiles, “It is pretty incredible.” he agrees. “So what are we doing now?”

“Fooooddd,” Jo groans, “I need food like now. I can’t do any planning or scheming until I’ve eaten something.”

“I second that.” Cas says.

With that they head out into the warm late afternoon light of Venice.

~~~

They wander aimlessly through the narrow streets of San Marco, crossing innumerable tiny stone bridges over the maze of canals and staring in awe at the beauty of the ancient buildings that rise straight out of the water.

Eventually they decide to go to the restaurant where Damon Bradley is expected to turn up. They’ve got an hour before his reservation but they need some time to strategize a bit. 

The restaurant is small but busy. Most of the seating is outside under a canopy, over which a twisting dark green vine climbs, tendrils and shoots hanging down in loose spirals over the diners. A canal runs along the side of the seating area where they chose a table and decide they’re going to have to eat now, no one wants to wait and Sam is secretly pretty sure he’s not going to be up for food later; there are already a few butterflies gathering in his stomach.

They eat pizza and drink beer while long, elegant Gondola’s glide along the waterway beside them, their velvet cushions and glossy black paintwork shining. 

Sam watches the canal with little real attention. He is still nervous about what is going to happen this evening 

When they have demolished the food in almost complete silence, too hungry to bother with conversation, Jo nods at Sam and asks, “So what’s the plan?”

Sam almost chokes on his second beer, “Why are you looking at me? This was your stupid idea. You’re the one who needs to have a plan!”

Jo shrugs, “I never said I had an actual plan.”

“You heavily implied you had a plan.” Sam says.

“I found out where the guy’s going to be! Which is a shit load more than either of you have done. Now it’s up to you.”

Sam rolls his eyes, gesturing at the other customers around them, “Oh right, I’ll just start going up to random guys and asking if they happen to be called Damon Bradley shall I?”

“Well not yet, he’s not gonna be here until 8,” Jo replies.

“Ha. Ha,” Sam replies with a small scowl, “I have no idea what to say.” He admits, “I don’t think there’s any easy way to say, “I think you might be my soul mate because a fortune teller gave me your name fifteen years ago and you left a message on my machine yesterday because apparently you know my ex-girlfriend so my friend convinced me it would be a good idea to follow you half way around the world. Would you like to have dinner?’’’ Sam raises his eyebrows at them and takes a pull of his beer.

“I’d just go with that,” Jo responds with a grin, “keep it simple.”

Sam rolls his eyes, “Thanks, I’ll bear it in mind.” he looks pained, “Maybe it should just be me here? Is it less terrifying to be approached by one crazy person or three?” he asks.

Jo and Cas give him disappointed looks, “We’re just going to watch from a discrete distance,” Cas says.

“If we don’t stay you’ll chicken out.” Jo says, “You need us.”

Sam frowns, “I’m not going to chicken out. I’ve come this far haven’t I?”

“Only because we’ve been shoving you forward the whole time,” Jo replies.

They sit there in the growing dusk, drinking and arguing over whether Cas and Jo should be allowed to lurk in the background while Sam tries to meet his soul mate, until Cas looks at his phone and says, “You know it’s 8.15 right?”

Jo goes wide-eyed with panic. “He was going to be here at 8pm! He must be here! Is he here?” She looks around wildly.

“Strangely I have no idea,” Cas answers.

Sam’s heart begins to thump in his chest again. He was just starting to relax, to imagine that this was all a silly game but now he might actually have to go and try to speak to a man who has only ever existed in his imagination. How can anyone possibly live up to that? There is no way this is going to end well. He shakes his head, trying to clear away the panic. “Well how are we going to find him?” He asks.

They look around at the other diners, trying not to look like they’re looking. There’s a couple at the next table talking animatedly, the girl in black and the man in a suit with short, dark slicked-back hair, a few large family groups; shrill kids voices occasionally rising over the background murmur. Several small groups of friends, locals and tourists and the odd lone diner. He could be any of these guys, Sam thinks, as it suddenly dawns on him that they have no idea if he was going to be here alone or not.

They all look at each other and shrug in confusion and then Jo gets up, dropping her napkin on the table, “This is pointless. There’s no way we can tell who he is by staring at strangers. I’m gonna go ask.”

Sam grabs her wrist and hisses, “You can’t just go and bug random people!”

Jo rolls her eyes, “Not them,” she explains, “the maître d’’ and she spins on her heel, weaving her way through the tables to the indoor seating area.

Sam watches her go, feeling awkward. He feels like he ought to be the one making the effort but the idea makes him feel mildly panicked so, for now, he’s happy to let Jo shove him along on this journey. He turns to Cas who has his head tilted back, sunglasses pushed up into his perpetually messy hair and eyes closed enjoying the warmth and the atmosphere; he looks more relaxed than Sam has seen him in a while.

Sam takes a breath and debates asking about his brother, anything to distract from the butterflies going nuts in his stomach, “Have you heard anything from Dean?” he asks, trying to keep his voice light.

Cas sighs and shakes his head slightly. Sam frowns, “Nothing?” he asks, surprised.

Cas opens his eyes but doesn’t meet Sam’s gaze, “No but we…we had a…fight. I didn’t really want to talk about it. I still don’t really...sorry. I…I don’t know…” he tails off and scrubs his hands over his eyes. Sam can almost see the tension returning to his face and shoulders and he feels guilty, he should have kept his mouth shut. 

While he searches in vain for something comforting to say he spots Jo making her way hurriedly back to their table. She looks excited, eyes wide as she bites her lip. She drops back into her seat and grins, “He’s here!” she says in a stage whisper.

Sam’s heart-rate quickens again and the butterflies are going berserk, “Where?” he asks, hoping that his voice doesn’t sound as weird and unsteady to his friends as it does to him. Jo points back toward the main restaurant, “He’s around the corner down the side according to the waiter.” She says. “They seem to know him by name, that’s cool huh?”

“Did you see him?” Cas asks.

“No, I figured Sam should be the first one to get a look at him.” Jo replies with a dodgy wink at Sam. He raises an eyebrow and bites his lip hard, trying to suppress the somewhat manic buzzing sensation he feels bubbling up inside him. 

“Ok, so should I…” he starts, “I guess I could just…take a look?”

Jo claps him on the shoulder, “Go get him tiger.”

Sam gives her a look and stands up looking in the direction Jo pointed. He takes a deep stuttering breath and squares his shoulders. Right. Showtime.

As Sam walks across the patio it seems like every possible obstacle is suddenly thrown in his way; small children run between the tables threatening to trip him, waiters dodge in from of him with arms full of dishes, chairs are pushed back into his path. Over the heads of the sudden throng of people in his way he can see a man with dark blond or maybe brown hair, sitting alone at a small table with his back to him. He feels a rush of excitement shoot through him but at the moment he spots him a sheet of flame shoots up beside him making him jump back and almost crash into yet another waiter carrying a bottle of champagne in a bucket. Ice spills onto the floor. Sam turns to apologize, kicking the ice away from where it might cause someone to slip. The waiter with the flambé apologizes profusely and Sam tries to tell him not to worry in his phrase book Italian. 

After all that Sam looks back in the direction of the table where he saw the man and his heart drops – the table is empty.

Sam glances around wildly and suddenly he catches a glimpse of him across the courtyard, walking out of the front gate; Sam turns and makes his way as fast as he can back through the throng to the table where Cas and Jo are waiting. “He’s leaving!” he calls by way of explanation and takes off in the direction he saw the blond man heading.

Jo and Cas exchange confused looks but they both jump up, Cas dropping a handful of cash he hopes will cover them onto the table. Jo grins at him and they hurry after Sam.


	7. Chapter 7

The streets around the restaurant are narrow and uneven, with smooth, worn cobbles underfoot and warm but dim street-lighting overhead. Sam runs in the direction he thinks the man had gone with barely a thought for what he is going to do when or if he catches up with him. He can’t actually see him but he thinks he can hear footsteps echoing off the stone walls ahead of him.

A couple round the corner coming the other way, deep in conversation. The man’s polished shoes reflect the street light as Sam passes them. They glance at him, curious as to what has this tall tourist in such a hurry.

Sam turns the corner into a small square by a church and he thinks he sees a glimpse of the other man as he passes into a dark alleyway at the other side of the piazza. Sam puts on a burst of speed and resists the urge to call out to him. He enters the alleyway which leads to one of the hundreds of small bridges that cross the canals. The alley is dark and covered by a stone arch, on the other side of the small bridge is a small square surrounded by tall, closely packed houses and three narrow streets that branch off. Sam stands on the bridge but the other man is nowhere to be seen and he has no idea which of the streets to take. With a sinking feeling in his stomach Sam realizes he has no way to know which way to go now. He turns to lean against the bridge, smacking his hand down on the smooth stone in exasperation. So close! How did he manage to fuck this up? He looks down into the black water that flows past and breathes in the smell of damp that pervades the area. 

He walks into the courtyard as Cas and Jo clatter around the corner and pull up short when they see him. They lean against each other, trying to catch their breath. Sam looks up and gives them a wry smile, “Lost him.” He says. Jo walks over the bridge and wraps her arms around him, he smiles into her hair although he doesn’t really want to. “Do you ever get the feeling the universe is trying to tell you something?” He asks sadly.

“Yes, that’s why we’re here idiot. If it’s trying to tell you anything now it’s that nothing’s easy. You’re gonna have to work for this, but we’ll get there. Don’t give up!”

Sam hugs her tighter, “If you say so.” They sit on a stone bench, talking in hushed voices while Cas sits in the archway that leads to the bridge and watches them fondly. He hears a sound behind him and looks up, scooting over to allow someone to pass. A short man with longish, dark blond hair stops in the arch and leans against the wall, bracing his hands on his knees and panting slightly. “Jesus!” He says breathlessly. He is American, a little older than Cas maybe? “He can fucking move can’t he!” The man says, waving a hand vaguely in the direction of Sam. Cas looks at him, confused, the man looks over, grinning and holds out a silver money clip with some notes in it and a room key. Cas looks at them, recognizing the clip as Sam’s. “He dropped these.” the man continues as he stands up straight, taking another deep breath. “Coming out of the restaurant, thought I’d catch him up but turns out I’m not as fit as I’d like to think! Not as fit as him anyway.” He adds with a smile. “He’s kind of amazing right?”

Cas laughs and reaches up to takes the clip and key, “Thank you, that’s very kind of you and yes, he’s a great guy.” He agrees. 

“Are they…?” The man indicates Jo and Sam. Cas shakes his head and the man’s eyes light up, “Or you?” Cas rolls his eyes, “Nope.” 

They watch Sam and Jo talk for a moment, Sam still looks sad and defeated. “Is he ok?” The man asks, sounding genuinely concerned. Cas sighs. ”He’s looking for the man of his dreams, he’s around here somewhere.” He makes a gesture intended to encompass Venice as a whole, “He’s never met him, never seen him – if you consider that ok then he’s ok.”

The man looks confused, “If they’ve never met, how does he know he’s the man of his dreams? Is he some kind of celebrity?”

Cas shakes his head, “No, that would make more sense. He got his name off a Ouija board when he was a kid.”

The man blinks, “Well ok then.”

“I know it doesn’t sound it but he’s not actually nuts.” Cas insists, concerned that he might be doing Sam a disservice.

The man shrugs, “Hey who am I to judge? I chased after some guy to give him his stuff back basically because I thought he was hot. I could’ve just handed it to the Carabinieri and gone on my merry way.” 

Sam and Jo stand up and walk towards them, “We need to find a phonebook and call all the hotels in Rome.” Jo calls out. Cas drops his head onto his knees with a groan.

“I could help you out? I know a few people here, I can speak Italian.” The man says.

“It’s nice of you to offer,” Cas says into his knees, “I really don’t think we should drag anyone else into this though.”

“It’s no trouble, what’s his name? I’ll ask around.”

Sam looks at the man in confusion, “I’m sorry do I…?” Cas looks up, hands him the money clip and key and explains what happened. Sam looks at his things in amazement, “Oh shit! Thank you so much!” He grins at the man who shakes his head. 

“No problem man. Your friend was just telling me about your problem. Maybe I could help?”

Sam flushes bright red, “Oh that’s ok, thanks for the offer but it’s fine, we’re fine. It’s kind of personal really.” He says, aiming an annoyed look at Cas. Why the hell is he going around telling his weird story to random men? Random, attractive men.

“I know some people at the embassy – I could…”

“Really, it’s ok. Thank….”

“Just tell me his name for god’s sake.” The man says with a grin.

“Damon Bradley.” Cas says with a sigh. Sam shoots him his best bitch-face. Neither of them notice the man’s eyes widening almost comically until he says slowly, “I’m Damon Bradley.”

As one, they all turn to face the man. “Sorry?” Sam says, sure he must have misheard.

“I’m Damon Bradley, that’s my name.” The man repeats, sounding completely confused.

“What…I…That’s…” Sam begins and abandons several sentences but can’t think of a single one that makes any kind of sense. There is a rushing in his ears and he knows his eyes are ridiculously wide. His throat is suddenly very dry and he wants to sit down before he falls down; he drops onto the edge of the little bridge with a thump. Jo is making an excited squeaking noise next to him and grabbing onto Cas’s jacket as she jumps up and down. Cas is grinning despite himself, this is completely unbelievable.

‘Um,’ Sam says eloquently as he looks up at the man’s golden eyes and confused smile. He doesn’t actually seem angry or freaked out, Sam thinks; even more bemused. ‘I’m sorry,’ Sam begins, ‘Did you say your name is Damon Bradley?” 

The shorter man nods, eyes wide.

Sam stares at him, “Okaay…I can’t really begin to explain this without coming off as completely bat-shit but I promise I’m not.’ He says finally. “I think I was meant to meet you.”

The man, Damon Bradley, looks at Sam with an appraising expression. ‘Ok,’ he says, ‘want to get a drink and tell me the whole sordid story?’

Sam blinks in surprise and nods dumbly, trying to smile but worrying that it looks more like a grimace at this point. ‘That’d be great,’ he finally manages.

Damon’s smile lights up his face, ‘Great.’

Cas and Jo exchange a significant look, ‘So how about we leave you guys to it for a bit?” Jo says, “We’ll go and see some more sights or something,’

Sam looks at them with gratitude and a tiny edge of panic. He can’t do this, he feels like he’s going to throw up. Cas raises his eyebrows in a slight question, wanting to make sure Sam is ok with this turn of events. Sam takes a deep breath and nods, time to man up Winchester, you can do this, he thinks and he smiles gently but Cas still seems reluctant to leave them.

“So yeah, have fun you crazy kids,” Jo calls, waving over her shoulder as she drags Cas by his arm back through the archway and off the way they came.

Damon stretches out a hand to Sam and smiles again. “So, you’ve got the advantage here - you know my name but I don’t think I caught yours?”

Sam laughs, feeling his face begin to heat up, “Shit, I’m sorry,” he puts out his hand, “Sam Winchester.”

Damon takes his hand and pulls him to his feet before shaking it. His hand is smaller than Sam’s but his grip is strong without being an over-compensating death-grip. “Nice to meet you Sam. Let’s go get that drink.” 

~~~

Damon leads the way down one of the small alleyways and as soon as they turn the corner they stumble across a bar. It is tiny, with a few tables along the outside wall running alongside yet another canal. They sit and Damon flags down a waiter, he orders a beer for Sam and something with a vaguely pornographic sounding name for himself.

“So.” Damon leans back in his seat, “Are you going to tell me this story about me being the man of your dreams? I don’t think I’ve ever been the man of anyone’s dreams before, never mind someone as gorgeous, or huge, as you Sasquatch.” He says with a mischievous grin.

Sam raises his eyebrows at that but feels his lips pull into a small smile despite himself. The guy is definitely odd but also definitely cute. 

Well this is it, the moment of truth - explanation time. Sam takes a deep breath and begins the story, right from the night fifteen years ago when Dean set up the Ouija board on his bedroom floor. Damon listens, apparently fascinated, as Sam goes through the whole ridiculous saga.

As he talks Sam listens to himself and realizes just how ludicrous the whole thing sounds. His face begins to heat up, he wants to stop speaking, make his apologies and just walk away but he forces himself to carry on – he’s come all this way after all. He tries not to look at Damon, afraid that he will see ridicule or pity in his eyes. His story reaches the moment on the bridge and he says, ‘And the rest you know…’ He looks up tentatively and sees the other man looking at him with a kind of wonder.

There is silence for a few seconds and then, “Holy shit.” Damon says, blinking in surprise.

Sam smiles nervously, “Yeah pretty much.” he agrees, “So feel free to, you know, run, I won’t be offended.”

Damon looks at Sam and grins widely, “Hell no!” he replies with a laugh. “That’s a hell of a story Sam. You don’t seem actively crazy, plus as I mentioned before, you’re kinda gorgeous, so I’m willing to stick around and see what happens.” 

Sam looks up with a confused but hopeful frown, “Really?” he asks incredulously.

Damon nods with a grin, “Well yeah Sammy, have you looked in a mirror lately?”

Sam blinks, he doesn’t even correct Damon when he calls him Sammy. “I didn’t mean…umm…thanks," He smiles shyly, feeling like a complete idiot while his brain screams at him to at least try and make an effort to act like a grown man, “I meant…I don’t think I had actually considered the possibility that you might not run away.” 

Damon grins. “Who am I to stand in the way of Destiny?” 

Sam laughs and feels some of the tension begin to drain away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case of confusion I should point out that Damon Bradley is the name from the film - just in case you were wondering where it comes from! :-)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! I'm nearly caught up with what I've already written now so I fear the next few updates might not come so fast! I hope you're enjoying it and thank you so much to everyone who left kudos and comments - love you guys :-) xx

Cas and Jo wander, arm in arm, down a tiny alleyway in search of somewhere to drink. Both of them can hardly believe what just happened and they don’t speak, each lost in an internal world of incredulity. They stare absently at the graffiti on the honey-colored stone walls that stretch above them as they pass by; random squiggles and words that they don’t understand tangle with each other and weave under and over layers of old posters. They peer in the windows of closed stores, most of which seem to sell nothing but beautiful and expensive Murano glass. Cas wonders out loud who would want to pay five thousand euros for an enormous glass Eagle? What would you do with it? How would you get it home? Jo laughs in bemused agreement.

Streetlights create pools of glowing orange light at irregular intervals, but in the spaces between them the darkness is intense; unlike anything they have experienced at home. On a few occasions they catch each other reaching out to brush their fingers over the walls, just to make sure they’re not about to walk into them. They laugh as their hearts beat faster in the dark, embarrassed but not really scared. It might be dark and maybe a little creepy, but it doesn’t feel dangerous in the shadows. They round a corner and suddenly there is a bright light at the end of the tunnel of the narrow street. They emerge from the gloom into a small piazza with a church, its stained-glass window glowing in the light from the two small bars that are next to it. The bars are busy but they find a table outside one and take a seat.

Cas is still nervous about leaving Sam alone with Damon.

Jo rolls her eyes, “Dude he’ll be fine. He’s like twice the size of the guy.”

Cas glares at her, “That doesn’t necessarily mean anything! What if he drugs him or something?”

“Oh for god’s sake, Sam knows how to look out for himself. If you’re worried just text him a couple of times then, check he’s ok. I’m sure he’ll be fine though.” She studies the drink menu while Cas leans back and takes it the beauty of their surroundings. The air is warm and still. The buildings have an air of faded elegance, cracked plaster revealing exposed reddish brickwork and the ever present damp. Slightly clichéd Italian love songs from the 60’s drift over from the interior of the bar. Cas suddenly feels a pang of sadness as the lyrics make him think of Dean. He wishes he could share this place with him. He wonders if he has even noticed yet that Cas has gone.

“Hey,” He looks up at the sound of Jo’s voice, she is looking at him with soft eyes and a sad smile, “You ok?” 

Cas nods and gives her a small smile, “Mm, just thinking.” He says. 

She hands him the menu, “Let’s get drunk.” She says with a grin.

He laughs; that sounds like a seriously good idea. When the waiter comes over Cas orders Scotch and Jo orders Campari and Soda just because she wants to know what it is. They sit in companionable silence while they wait, watching the people pass by, lost in thought until the waiter arrives and puts down their drinks and some little bowls of nuts, crackers and other tiny snacks.

Jo grins, shoving a handful into her mouth, “God I’m still hungry, all this running around really gives you an appetite!” She looks up at him with wide eyes, “But we did it. We actually fucking did it Cas!” she says, shaking her head in disbelief. “How surreal was that shit!?” 

“Pretty surreal.” Cas agrees with a smile.

“If that doesn’t make you believe in destiny nothing will.” Jo states, taking a swig of her drink. She makes a face at the bitter taste as she swallows, “Ew.” She says and then takes another sip. 

Cas sips his whisky then looks down at it, swirling the dark liquid in the glass.

“I don’t even like this stuff.” He says suddenly with a sigh. Jo looks confused.

“I drink it because Dean likes it, because he refuses to have any drink in the house that he thinks is ‘girly’.” He explains quietly and sips it again, “I would kill for a gin and tonic and yet here I am drinking this disinfectant tasting crap out of habit, to impress a man who isn’t even here and wouldn’t notice me if he was. I thought he was my destiny once.”

Jo reaches over the table and takes Cas’s hand, giving it a small squeeze. She has no idea what to say. Cas seems to have reached some sort of cross-roads in his life, he needs to make this decision himself. All she can do is tell it how she sees it.

“I’m not excusing him but I think you’re wrong to think he wouldn’t notice you. He watches you all the time; every second he thinks you can’t see him, he’s looking at you. He loves you, I’m sure of it, but that’s not the point anymore. It’s not fair of him to keep you waiting around because of whatever shit he’s dealing with. You need to do what’s right for you Cas.”

There is a long pause while Cas takes another sip of his whiskey and tilts his head back. He closes his eyes and after a second he says, “We kissed.”

Jo blinks then grabs his arm, nails digging into his shirt, he winces and opens his eyes to look at her. Her eyes are wide and her mouth is open, if his heart didn’t feel like shredded paper he would laugh.

“You did what? When? What happened?” She exclaims.

“We kissed.” He repeats, “A week ago. At home. We were both drunk, sitting on the couch, he was tired, he put his head on my shoulder, like he does when he’s drunk and he can pretend that he doesn’t remember afterwards. Every time he does that it kills me a bit.” He sighs. 

“That’s why I try not to get drunk with him anymore. He gets so affectionate and sweet and warm and when he touches me, even for a second, it’s the best and worst thing I’ve ever felt.” 

There is another pause while he takes another gulp of whiskey, swallowing hard and sniffing. “I guess I was just a bit drunker than usual, a bit braver? Stupider? I don’t know. But I looked at him with his hair all messed up and his eyes were so bright and his lips looked so….I don’t know. So I kissed him. Just on the cheek, real quick. But then he turned to look at me and…God Jo…he is the most beautiful…” Cas breaks off to scrub his hands over his face, pushing at the slight wetness at the edges of his eyes. “And he pulled me in and he kissed me.”

Jo gapes at him, “Oh my god!”

“It was…amazing. It was everything I’ve thought about, for the last god-knows how long. He grabbed me and wrapped his arms around me and it was like I was falling into this ridiculous warmth and safety. I felt him relax into me and he smiled and he ran his fingers over my face and we stared at each other for what felt like hours and we kissed some more and we held hands. We didn’t speak really at all; just hugged and kissed and smiled at each other and I have never been happier in my life. I felt like this huge weight had been lifted and I thought I could just float away. We must have fallen asleep like that because the next thing I knew I was waking up on the couch and it was morning and I had a stiff neck and a hangover and he was gone. I haven’t seen him or heard from him since.”

Jo looks at him in silence for a moment with her eyes wide. She has no idea what to say. She moves her hand to take his, smoothing her thumb soothingly over his skin. “Oh Cas I’m so sorry.” 

Cas gives her a wry smile and shrugs minutely. “I guess at least I know where I am now. After all that time wondering and dancing around it…” He takes another sip. “So I figure it’s definitely time to move on. Cut my losses.” He looks at her and tries very hard to hide the huge crack in his heart behind another small smile. 

The defeated look in his eyes nearly breaks Jo’s heart, she wants to make Dean suffer for putting it there.

Cas squeezes her hand, “I think this vacation is going to be good for me. I need the space, time away.”

“Yes!” Jo raises her glass and he clinks his own tumbler against it. She sips her Campari again, “This stuff is weird as hell but it kinda grows on you.” She says, looking down into the red liquid.

“Perfect for you then.” Cas replies.

Jo sticks out her tongue at him and he laughs. “I’m going to the bathroom douchebag,” She says grinning and getting up, “Think you can cope without me for 5 minutes?”

“I’ll try.” 

Jo walks into the bar and Cas sits back, sipping at the burning amber liquid and making a face.

The waiter comes over, tray in hand, and puts a tall glass of Gin and Tonic down in front of him. “Um I didn’t order this, I think you’ve got the wrong table.” He explains to the waiter. 

“Compliments of the gentleman.” The waiter replies, indicating a blond man sitting at the next table. The man looks at him and smiles. He has longish hair, a handsome, tan face and pale blue, friendly eyes. He raises his glass to Cas, “I’m sorry I couldn’t help over-hearing.” He says. 

~~~

Sam raises an eyebrow at the colorful concoction, complete with tiny umbrella and various things on cocktail sticks, which the waiter places in front of Damon. It looks like a recipe for a guaranteed crippling hangover. “What?” Damon asks, feigning confusion.

“Oh nothing, nothing at all.” Sam replies, shaking his head with a smirk.

“Shut up, I have a sweet tooth.” Damon grins into the ridiculous drink as he sucks on the straw.

“So I see. Do you have a cast-iron head as well?” 

“Yes, I’ll have you know that I have years of practice drinking syrupy fruit flavored crap. I have built up an immunity.”

Sam laughs, “Good, I wouldn’t want you to die of a hangover when we’ve only just met.”

Damon looks up as he takes another sip. In the flickering light of the candle on the table his eyes are all the colors of the flames, “Aw Sam you don’t want me to die? Well I guess the date’s going well.”

Sam laughs, then feels his mouth go dry as Damon looks up at him through his lashes while he sucks on his straw again. Sam pulls in an unsteady breath as he tries to drag his thoughts back together. It has been precisely 10 minutes since he first laid eyes on this guy. He can’t be having inappropriate thoughts about the way he drinks his horrible cocktail already. 

“So,” Sam says, clearing his throat in a desperate attempt to reclaim a sense of decorum, “What do you do?”

“Nothing interesting.” Damon replies, “Just sales. Although I guess you kind of knew that?”

Sam blushes again and nods, “Well, we had an idea.”

Damon asks Sam what he does and laughs, choking slightly, when he tells him. “You’re a lawyer? You really don’t come off like a lawyer.”

“Is that good or bad?” Sam asks with a smile.

“Good, I think.” Damon replies thoughtfully, “What kind of law?”

Sam sighs, “Nothing interesting really, I’m a public defender. It’s really hard and really not glamorous.”

Damon looks impressed, “What’s not interesting about that? That’s great!”

Despite himself Sam feels an unfamiliar surge of pride in his job. He gives a self-deprecating smile and shrugs, “I guess I always imagined I’d be doing big, exciting criminal stuff y’know? Saving people, locking up bad-guys, keeping the streets safe?”

Damon cocks an eyebrow at him, “Are you sure you didn’t just want to be a superhero?” He asks.

Sam laughs, “Well, now you mention it…”

“Anyway, what you do is amazing. So much better than defending rich bastards you know are guilty. You’re helping people who are really desperate; that’s pretty heroic if you ask me.”

Sam tries to hide his smile behind his glass but mostly fails. In an attempt to divert attention away from himself he asks Damon what he does for fun and his face lights up, “I really like cooking, especially desserts and sweets.” He smiles shyly, “I don’t know why, I’ve just always loved that look people get when they taste something really delicious. Like they’ve discovered some amazing secret – you know?”

The look of total honesty and excitement in Damon’s eyes is completely captivating and Sam feels like he absolutely understands what he means.

They carry on talking for what seems like hours about everything. About Sam’s work, food, movies, music, travelling. 

Damon tells him about his huge family – his sisters Hester and Anna and his brothers Michael, Raph and Luc. His family runs a huge pharma company that most of his siblings are involved with in one way or another. He does love his family, he explains, but he hates the corporate bullshit and the squabbling between his two oldest brothers. His older brother Raph usually comes to the sales event in Venice but he’s sick so the job got passed off to him.

Sam for his part tells Damon all about his family, how he and Dean went live with their Dad’s friend Bobby after their parents died in a house fire and how Bobby was the best surrogate father they could have asked for. How Dean saved Sam from that fire when he was six and Sam was just one and had always taken care of him and worked three jobs to help Bobby afford to send Sam to college and how Sam sometimes feels in awe of his big brother.

He talked about Dean and Cas’s relationship and how everyone but them has been able to see it since high school and how, despite being in awe of Dean, Sam also often wants to shake him and tell him that what their father would have thought doesn’t matter now and he needs to tell Cas how he feels. 

When he looks up and realizes how dark it is and sees the stars reflected in the water, Sam suddenly realizes they have been talking for hours and that he has told this virtual stranger things that he would normally only tell his closest friends. He has literally just met this man and he can already feel himself falling. This is what he always imagined it would be like; easy, instinctual and effortless. Damon is funny; dry and sarcastic but also self-deprecating and sweet, he has the most amazingly expressive face and the nicest smile and when he looks at him Sam feels his heart melt a little.

As they talk and drink they become more and more tactile. It starts with small touches of fingers or arms for emphasis and gradually those touches last longer until Sam suddenly realizes that their fingers are interwoven on the table between them. His breath catches and Damon looks down and smiles as he notices as well, there is a pause. 

“Do you want to go for a walk?” Damon asks.

Sam smiles, “Sure.” he answers, still looking down at their fingers touching on the white table cloth.

~~~

The blond man holds out a hand, “Balthazar.” He says with another blinding smile and a soft accent Cas can't place. Cas takes his hand, Balthazar’s palm is cool and smooth and his handshake firm. 

“Castiel.” He replies. 

Balthazar indicates Jo’s empty chair, “May I?”

Cas nods, he knows Jo won’t be gone long but he finds himself somewhat confused by brilliant blue eyes and white teeth. He swallows and smiles, “Thank you.” He says, holding up the drink the blond man had bought him.

“My pleasure. I apologise for eavesdropping, I just couldn’t help overhearing and I thought you could maybe do with cheering up.”

Cas smiles, “That’s ok, it was kind of you.”

“What brings you to Venice?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Cas replies with a laugh. 

Balthzar raises an eyebrow, “Well now I’m intrigued. Try me.”

Cas sketches the briefest outline of the events of the last couple of days and Balthazar looks increasingly astounded. 

“Wow.” He says when Cas has finished, “That is amazing. So your friend is with this man now?”

Cas nods, “Yeah.” 

“Well I certainly hope it goes well for him. And you? What are you hoping to find here?”

Cas frowns, “I have no idea. I just followed Sam and Jo but now I’m here I don’t know what to do. This city is so beautiful, I think I’m just going to use this time to take stock, you know? Recharge my batteries.” He’s surprised at himself for talking so openly to someone he has just met but he can definitely feel himself being drawn to Balthazar’s warm smile and easy manner.

Balthazar nods and takes a sip of his drink, “You have chosen the best place for that. Venezia will heal your broken heart.” He says with a smile.

Cas smiles sadly, “I hope so.” He says quietly. 

Jo re-appears behind Balthazar with a confused look on her face, “Are you ok?” She mouths to Cas. Cas nods at her and gestures to Balthazar.

“Jo this is Balthazar; Balthazar, Jo.” He says as Jo arrives at his side. They shake hands, Jo still looking warily at Cas. “He over-heard my tale of misery and kindly bought me this.” Cas holds up his drink. 

Balthazar gets up, “I’m sorry, I took your seat.” He says to Jo. 

Jo grabs another chair from the next table and sits down, “It’s fine.” She says. 

“Castiel was just explaining your friend’s rather extraordinary story and I was just telling him that he has come to the right place to get over his relationship problems.” Balthazar explains. 

Jo arches an eyebrow, “Is that right? Let me guess; you can help?”

Cas kicks her under the table and shoots her a glare.

Balthazar smiles widely and laughs, un-offended. “Well, Castiel is a very attractive man,” He says and Cas flushes, still staring daggers at Jo. 

“I would love to get to know you better,” Balthazar says to Cas, “but I think that’s rather up to you.” 

 

~~~

Damon pays the check and they meander away from the restaurant, towards the Piazza San Marco. The sky is now black, scattered with stars. The piazza is packed with tourists and locals, eating and drinking at the pavement restaurants and taking pictures of the beautiful buildings and each other. At the far end of the piazza is the stunning St. Mark’s Basilica with its elaborate, eastern style domes and the towering, strangely ill-matched Campanile. 

The stores and cafes that line the edges of the square are all lit-up with a deep burnished golden light that pools around them, reflected in glassware, brass fittings and the puddles between the cobbles. Street vendors dotted throughout the square are demonstrating strange light up flying toys which seem to Sam to be unlikely to convince anyone to part with their money. Like crazy fireflies the toys streak up to ridiculous heights in the sky, sometimes nearly reaching the top of the Campanile before falling back to earth, their bright blinking lights lending the whole scene a surreal air.

Sam looks over at Damon who is grinning, his face bathed in light as he watches one of the flying things plummet back toward its owner. Sam suddenly knows what he’s going to do but part of him is still surprised as he leans over to press his lips to Damon’s.

It is a very quick kiss and Sam pulls back, suddenly embarrassed at his presumption but Damon smiles wide and quirks an eyebrow. “You don’t mess about do you Winchester?” He laughs, looking surprised.

Sam blushes and shrugs and leans down again, curling his hands around Damon’s jaw and kissing him again, harder this time. He runs his tongue gently along Damon’s lower lip and Damon makes a small sound of appreciation and opens his mouth against Sam’s. He reaches up to push his fingers into Sam’s hair and Sam groans softly and moves his mouth away from Damon’s to kiss his neck, tasting sun-warmed skin.

“Oh god.” Damon groans, panting. He drags in a shuddering breath, “Thing is….I’ve got to tell you something Sam…something important….mmm…Sam…listen!" Damon pushes against Sam’s broad chest, forcing him back. Sam looks down at him in confusion and Damon sighs, “Sammy please don’t hate me…but, before this goes any…shit I’m sorry…my name isn’t Damon Bradley.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this is so late! I am a terrible person. I usually do most of my writing at work but it's been annoyingly busy the last couple of weeks. - They're making us do actual work - bastards! :-) 
> 
> So anyway, here it is - I hope you like it. Huge thanks to all who have liked and commented so far!

Everything comes to a screeching halt. What the fuck did he just say? Sam replays the words in his head, ‘My name isn’t Damon Bradley.’ Is this a joke?

Damon (?) looks completely wrecked as Sam stares down at him, his cheeks are flushed, his lips are kiss-bruised, his hair is all over the place and his pupils are blown wide, black holes surrounded by the thinnest halo of gold. However his eyes are also downcast and he looks sick and ashamed. Not a joke then Sam realizes, feeling a sinking pit of embarrassment and anger opening up in his chest. “What the fuck?” Sam finally says out loud.

Damon, or whatever the fuck his name is, can’t bring himself to look at Sam. He breathes in hard, closing his eyes before launching into his explanation in a babbled rush of words, “I’m so sorry Sam.” He begins, “My name is Gabriel Milton. I saw you in the café and I thought you were the hottest guy I had ever seen and I only followed you to give you your wallet back and then your friend told me your story and I have no idea what I was thinking but I have never wanted to be someone else as much as I wanted to be that guy. I didn’t think, I didn’t think you’d believe me, I didn’t think we’d get on so well. I didn’t think further than that I wanted to get to know you and make you smile. Fuck! I’m so sorry. I really like you.”

Sam stares at Damon – Gabriel - in disgust. He shakes his head; he is so angry he feels sick. “Fuck you,” he bites out, trying to keep his voice low, not wanting to start yelling in public but he knows his voice is getting louder as the reality of Gabriel’s confession strikes home. “What the fuck were you thinking?” Sam continues, “Were you ever planning to tell me? Were you just planning to? What? Fuck me and disappear?”

Gabriel shakes his head emphatically, looking miserable, “No! I would never do that. I really don’t know what I was thinking, I was having such a great time and I wasn’t planning to do anything…but when I realized where this was going I knew I had to tell you. I know what doesn’t make it better. I understand if you hate me and I know you probably don’t want to have anything to do with me now.”

Sam barks a hollow laugh. “Probably!?” He exclaims, “Yeah, no shit Sherlock. I would very much like you to fuck off now and if I ever see you again I will probably knock you out.” Sam spins on his heel and walks away, not having the faintest idea where he is going other than away from the man with the gold eyes.

~~~

“…and that God-awful song makes me want to smite myself!” Balthazar sighs dramatically, his head dropping back in despair. Cas grins as the strains of Celine Dion’s ‘My Heart Will Go On’ drift from the bar’s speakers, with perfect timing, in the middle of a passionate and hilarious rant from the blond man on the subject of his hatred for the movie Titanic.

“Clearly you’re being punished for your lack of appreciation of a cinematic classic.” Cas says with a smirk. 

Balthazar shakes his head sadly, “I take it all back, you are clearly not the man for me.”

Cas laughs. He’s surprised at how much he likes this guy with his quick smile and relaxed, almost louche manner. Balthazar – or Bal as he insists they call him – is flirting with him outrageously. He grins, winks, finds any excuse to touch his arm or hand while they talk, making no attempt to hide his attraction. He seems completely comfortable with his sexuality – something that Cas finds compelling and almost bizarre after years of Dean and his severe case of denial. Cas finds himself responding to the man’s attention almost unconsciously.

Even Jo seems to be warming to him. Cas could feel her watching him for signs that he is uncomfortable, or for signs that he is too comfortable – cautious on his behalf. But eventually she began to smile when he smiled, she seems happy that he’s happy. Some of the tension left her and she let herself laugh at Bal’s jokes and joined in their teasing of each other.

They’ve been chatting, drinking and flirting for a couple of hours when Cas suddenly realizes he hasn’t checked on Sam and sends him a quick text asking him how his date’s going. He keeps one eye on the phone for the next few minutes but there’s no reply.

Bal frowns as he notices Cas’s distraction. “Everything ok?” He asks.

Cas taps the screen of his phone, “I just text Sam but he hasn’t replied. I’m sure he’s fine though.” He adds with an unsure smile.

“He’s probably distracted.” Jo says with a grin.

Cas smiles again but for some reason he feels uncomfortable. Bal looks at him with a raised eyebrow. “Maybe give it a couple of minutes and try again? If you don’t get an answer you should go find him. It’s ok to look out for your friend you know.”

Cas nods gratefully and glances down at the screen again.

 

~~~

Sam walks and walks without taking anything in. He feels his phone buzz in his pocket but he can’t bring himself to look. He crosses the piazza and finds himself lost in the tiny streets. He has no idea where he is headed, he can’t bring himself to go back to the hotel and face the expectant, excited faces of Jo and Cas.

He wants to shout or hit something or, more than anything, just curl up and cry but he won’t. He’s a grown man for fuck’s sake, he is not going to cry like a stupid teenager over a guy he barely even knows. Make that a guy he doesn’t know at all, seeing as the last few hours were clearly a complete tissue of bullshit. 

He can’t really process what happened. He really liked Damon – Gabriel. He was everything Sam had hoped for. Right up to the point where it turned out that he lied about everything to fit himself into Sam’s ridiculous fantasy. Who behaves like that? God he must have been killing himself laughing at Sam and the ludicrous soul mate crap he had spouted. Sam feels his ears and neck crawl with prickly heat as deep embarrassment begins to flood over him, drowning the anger.

He finds himself passing a bar and is hit by an overwhelming urge to drown his sorrows. He sits down and orders a whiskey, when it arrives he downs at least half of it in one miserable gulp then runs his hands over his face as if to erase the day.

Looking around him he sees nothing but couples. Sitting at the other tables, heads bent low as they whisper to each other; standing on the bridges holding hands and watching the water; in the passing Gondola’s wrapped in each other’s arms. He downs the rest of his whiskey and signals the waiter for another.

He can’t believe he was so fucking stupid. Why the fuck did he tell his whole fucking life story to some random dude he just met? What made him think it was a good idea to base a significant life decision on some superstitious bullshit from his childhood? If his brother was here he would kick his ass, and he’d be right.

Sam takes another sip of his drink, closes his eyes and exhales deeply. He is going to go home tomorrow. The other two can stay if they want but he has had quite enough of Venice for one life time.

His phone vibrates again and he fishes it out with a sigh. It is a text from Cas, ‘Are you ok?’ Sam huffs a laugh and stares at the screen; he has no idea how to respond. In the end he replies, ‘Fine c u tmrw.’ He really doesn’t feel like explaining tonight’s humiliating disaster to anyone right now.

He carries on drinking and watching the streams of people who swirl around the bar. His phone buzzes again and he sighs, another text from Cas. ‘Where are you?’

Sam scrubs a hand over his eyes until splotches of color bloom in his vision. He doesn’t want to talk but if he says nothing Cas will worry. He glances down at the menu and sends the name of the bar and the street name back. Then he throws back the rest of his whiskey and drops his head back, staring up at the patches of stars glimpsed between the tightly packed surrounding roofs.

~~~

Cas looks down at his phone as Sam’s reply comes in. “I’m really sorry, I have to go.” He says to Balthazar who smiles.

“It’s ok, you should go and check on your friend.” He puts a hand on Cas’s arm and Cas looks at him gratefully. Bal explains how to get to the bar that Sam had texted Cas the name of.

“Do you need me to come with you?” He asks. Cas shakes his head, looking over at Jo who is fishing money out of her bag to put on the table. Bal puts out a hand to push it back towards her, “My treat.” He says with a smile. Jo tries to insist but Bal just shakes his head. “It was lovely to meet you both, I hope you have a great vacation, I’m sure your friend is fine.” He gives Jo a hug over the table and turns to Cas, “If you need any help or a free tour guide I would be happy to show you around.” He says and pulls a card out of his wallet and hands it to Cas. 

Cas swallows and finds he is quietly excited at the idea of seeing Bal again, he smiles. “Thank you that would be lovely, it was great to meet you too. Thank you for the drinks.” 

Bal leans in and hugs him quickly, breath ghosting over his cheek, Cas feels himself flush, warmth creeping over him. Before he can think he returns the faint kiss and turns away from where he can see Jo grinning at him and giving him the thumbs up behind Bal’s back. 

They walk off in the direction of the bar. 

~~~

Twenty minutes and another whiskey later Cas and Jo appear at the bar and drop down into the seat opposite Sam. Cas is anxious, his worry evident in his raised eyebrows and the thin set of his lips. Jo takes in Sam’s despondent look and immediately looks around, anger clouding her face as she scans the area for the source of her friends pain.

Sam smiles wanly but can’t think of anything to say for now apart from, “Drink?” 

Cas nods and Sam attracts the waiter’s attention. Jo orders a beer, Cas another G&T and Sam gets more whiskey. Cas looks at him pointedly, “So…” he begins, “what happened? I knew when I got that text that it had all gone wrong. You never abbreviate that much unless you’re pissed.”

Sam sighs, stifling a wan smile, Cas knows him too well. “He was great, he was everything I hoped for…except he wasn’t Damon fucking Bradley.”

Cas and Jo blink in unison, “Sorry?” Cas asks, confused.

“He wasn’t Damon Bradley.” Sam repeats, “He was lying. He saw me and decided to pretend to be Damon in order to...I dunno…get in my pants or something.”

Cas takes a deep breath, eyes widening is disbelief, “What the fuck?” He says. Jo makes a spluttering noise as she chokes on her drink.

Sam raises an eyebrow, Cas hardly ever curses. “Got that right” He agrees with feeling. Cas and Jo are looking at him in shock. He drops his eyes, he doesn’t want to see the looks of pity. He takes a breath, sighs and gives them a lop-sided smile, “Oh well, it was worth a try right? Wouldn’t have known if we hadn’t tried.”

“What do you mean ‘was’?” Jo asks. “He wasn’t the guy, so you haven’t tried yet.”

Sam raises an eyebrow, “Yeah, I’m not really feeling it anymore Jo.” He sighs.

“You can’t let one asshole ruin this Sam. This is just a bump in the road – you deserve to find your soul mate and he’s out there somewhere I’m sure of it.” Cas says quietly. 

“The path of true love etc. etc.?” Jo agrees.

“Why do you even care?” Sam asks, exasperated and suddenly tired.

Jo looks hurt for a moment, “Why wouldn’t I care Sam?” She replies, “You’re my best friend.”

“You’ve always believed Dean and I should be together, haven’t you?” Cas says, “You never made fun of me for staying even though I should probably go and get a life. Well that’s what I feel now, I know there is someone out there for you and I really thought we’d found him and I’m so sorry that wasn’t the case but I really feel like he’s here.”

Sam presses his lips together and feels tears prick at his eyes, “Thanks Cas,” he says quietly. He takes a deep breath, “I just don’t know if I can do that again. What if something like that happens again, or what I meet the real guy and he’s just a douche? I just don’t think it’s worth it.”

Cas looks at him sadly, “I’m not going to force you Sam, it’s your destiny so you get to choose.”

Sam sighs, “I’ve had enough of destiny.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I have been soooo late posting this - been having a bit of writers block as well as having no time to write lately! Anyway I'm sorry this is a bit short but I hope you like it and hopefully the next one won't take quite so long!

The next morning Sam wakes up in his hotel room with a hangover and a heavy feeling in his chest. The sunlight is streaming in through the window and stabbing him in the eyes. He groans and squeezes his eyes tight, pulling the covers over his head. He remembers drowning his sorrows with Cas and Jo. He doesn’t remember a lot after that.

They had both tried to convince him not to give up but he had been completely set on going home. He just felt the need for familiar territory. This morning, despite the headache he is less sure. They’ve come a long way and he’s not the kind of person to give up on something that easily but when he thinks about finding the real Damon Bradley, he just feels like a hand is clenched around his heart. He pushes the covers down slowly and gradually rolls out of bed trying to minimize the movement of his head.

As he stands in the shower with his head bowed watching the water run off the ends of his hair Sam gradually begins to feel human again. The water pressure is pretty good for a hotel, drumming into the muscles in his shoulders and back making him groan as the tension and pain ebb away.

He takes stock of the ridiculousness of the last 48 hours and is surprised to find himself smiling. Last night might have ended up awful but this has been an experience he never expected to have.

When he’s dressed again and ready to face humanity Sam heads out in search of his friends.

Outside Cas’s room he knocks on the door and waits. There is little noise from inside bar some faint mumbling. He knocks again and there is a small crash and some muffled cursing before the door opens and Cas stands on the threshold glowering at him wearing nothing but black boxers and a ratty AC/DC t-shirt that Sam is sure must have once belonged to Dean. “Morning!” Sam says with intentionally annoying cheeriness.

“What is wrong with you?” Cas complains, standing back to let him in, “Aren’t you supposed to be miserable and hung over?”

Sam sighs, “I am hung over and miserable but annoying you is making me feel better.”

Cas rolls his eyes and then winces in pain, “My eyeballs ache Sam,” he says accusingly, “how is that even possible?”

There is a soft groan from somewhere in the room and Sam looks around in confusion to see Jo rise from amongst the covers of Cas’s bed, her blonde hair looking like a birds nest and her eyes blood shot. She appeared to be wearing most of the same clothes she’d been wearing at the bar. Sam blinks at her in surprise and looks at Cas with raised eyebrows.

“What?” Cas asks, then he sighs, “Oh for God’s sake Sam, really?” He smiles, sitting down on the other side of the bed.

“Eww.” Jo says with feeling, chucking a pillow at Sam’s head.

“Oh thank you,” Cas makes a face at her, “I might be your kind-of brother, your extremely gay kind-of brother by the way Sam, but that was uncalled for.”

“I think I passed out.” Jo says scrubbing at her face, smearing eye make-up across her cheek.

Cas nods, “Yes you did and I couldn’t face trying to maneuver you to your own room.”

Jo smiles at him, “Aww thank you extremely gay brother figure.” she says, throwing her arms around his neck.

Cas makes a face, “You smell like a brewery and you look like a partially melted panda.” He says, peeling her away from him.

“Alright, alright screw you,” Jo mumbles, rolling out of the bed and plodding toward the door with heavy steps, “I’ll be back in a bit.”

When the door is closed Cas looks at Sam with bright blue eyes full of confusion and a little bit of hurt. “Did you really think I would sleep with Jo?” He asks.

Sam feels himself flush; “No of course not, just, you know, things are weird with you at the moment.” he shrugs awkwardly.

Cas raises an eyebrow, “True,” he acknowledges with a tiny sad smile, “I don’t think things are weird enough to turn me straight yet though.”

Sam laughs, “Yeah ok I’m sorry dude, I just worry about you.”

Cas looks down, “I know Sam, it’s ok. I’ll be ok.” He says with a smile that Sam thinks is slightly too wide.

They stand for a moment surrounded by things they’re not talking about until Cas says, “So, enough about me. What’s the plan? Do you still want to go home?”

Sam shrugs, “I don’t know man, this whole thing has kind of lost its spark but I don’t want to just give up.”

“Well perhaps we should just take a day to relax and see the sights? See what you feel like tomorrow?” Cas suggests.

Sam nods thoughtfully, “That actually sounds like a good plan Cas, thanks.” He likes the idea of slowing down for a second, taking stock and enjoying just being in this beautiful place.

Cas smiles, “You’re welcome. I’m going to have a shower; shall I meet you downstairs?”

~~~

Sam heads down to the lobby. He takes a seat in one of the too-low leather armchairs and looks around absently before picking up a magazine. He flicks through it vaguely before it dawns on him that he can’t understand a word of it and he puts it down.

A gentle breeze ruffles his hair as the glass doors open. He carries on staring around the room restlessly, waiting. Gradually he becomes aware of something behind him, he turns toward the doors and his heart jumps as he sees Gabriel standing just inside the door looking around the lobby. He looks nervous and awkward, so unlike the guy Sam had spent the previous evening with that Sam almost feels sorry for him. Almost.

Sam goes to turn away, trying to avoid his gaze but it’s too late and he realizes Gabriel has spotted him. Gabriel’s eyes light up but he still looks incredible nervous. The corners of his lips twitch up in an almost-smile but his expression is apologetic and sad. He walks towards Sam who fights the desire to leave or yell. 

“Um…hi.” Gabriel says quietly.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Sam hisses, his voice shaking with subdued anger.

Gabriel swallows, “I’m sorry,” he says, “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see but I have something important to tell you.”

Sam laughs dryly, “Oh really? This should to be good. What is it this time? Is Gabriel not your name either? Are you actually a ghost? Or a freaking angel?”

Gabriel looks down at his feet then takes a deep breath and looks up at Sam. To his huge annoyance Sam finds himself unable to look away, he is still captivated by the shorter man’s gorgeous eyes.

“I know where the real Damon Bradley is.” Gabriel says in a rush, “I asked around, I have a friend who works at the convention center and he checked and there was Damon Bradley signed in but he’s leaving today and going to Portafino, so maybe you could catch up with him there?” He finishes with a gasp.

Sam stares at him, “Why would you do that?” he asks. He is still angry but also intrigued. This guy lied to him to get him into bed, confessed before he’d succeeded, got yelled at and then went out of his way to help Sam out. 

“I’m really sorry Sam, I feel like complete shit for what I did and I just wanted to do something to try and make it up to you.”

“You know that really doesn’t make up for fucking lying to me and making me fall for you under false pretenses don’t you?” Sam replies and as soon as he closes his mouth he realizes what he said and is mentally kicking himself in the nuts.

Gabriel’s eyes widen, “You fell for me?” He tilts his head to one side and raises one eyebrow. There is a ghost of a smile on his lips that he is trying desperately to hide.

“Fuck off,” Sam says, “I liked you, I thought you were nice but I was mistaken wasn’t I?”

Gabriel looks chastened but not as completely beaten as he did when he came in, he nods and sighs. “I’m sorry Sam, I really am. I like you too and for what it’s worth that was the best evening I’ve had for a long time.”

Sam snorts in disbelief, “Yeah ok, you won’t mind if I don’t believe you?”

Gabriel shrugs, “That’s up to you, but it’s true.” 

“Well I think I’m done with the whole Damon Bradley thing, thanks to you. I just want to go look around the city with my friends and forget about it.” Sam replies.

“Well if you change your mind, Portafino is a great place to visit whether you decide to try and find him or not.” Gabriel smiles a weak smile and looks into Sam’s eyes, “I’m really sorry again Sam. Don’t let me being a dick put you off finding your soulmate ok? You’re amazing and you deserve someone amazing. I hope he’s everything you’re hoping for.”

Sam says nothing. Gabriel gives a tiny nod, turns away and walks out the doors. 

Sam is still staring after him when Cas and Jo appear next to him. “Are you ok Sam?” Cas asks, following his gaze and frowning.

Sam nods absently and takes a deep breath, “Yeah, it was Gabriel…he came back.”

Jo looks confused, “Gabriel?”

“The guy from last night, the one who wasn’t Damon Bradley.”

“You mean the one who lied to you and tried to trick you into sleeping with him?”

Sam sighs, “Yeah that one. Although he didn’t really…well he did come clean once things started to get…” He trails off. Why was he trying to make excuses for the guy? He was a dick.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> I really love hearing from you guys and I thrive on comments and kudos so, if you liked it please do leave kudos and please comment, whether you liked it or not! X


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